


Unbind Me ~ Loki & Tom

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [21]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like a fairy tale, only true love can wake Loki from this magical coma.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbind Me ~ Loki & Tom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hiddlestan (Alate)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alate/gifts).



> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.
> 
> **A/N:** From [a list of prompts on tumblr](http://batshieroglyphics.tumblr.com/post/42976150422) as a response to a prompt given to me by [hiddlebang](http://hiddlebang.tumblr.com/). The prompt was **Unbind Me -- Tom saving Loki**  
>  I went back and forth with this for a while, trying to decide how to tackle this prompt, since I've written a few variations on Tom coming to Loki's aid in some way.   
> I'm blaming those fairy tales prompts for this one.

Loki had been missing for almost a month when Agent Phil Coulson showed up on set, expression tight and taking a moment to look around before heading straight for Tom. The actor waffled between disbelief and despair for a brief moment before shoving the despair aside. "And here I thought they weren't letting anyone from the outside world in," he said as the shorter man stopped in front of him. 

"They weren't given a choice," Coulson replied, voice perfectly calm. "Tell me, Mr Hiddleston, do you know who I am?" 

Tom paused for half a beat, considering how likely his chances of getting away with a lie would be, before admitting, "I do." 

Something swift and unreadable flickered through Coulson's eyes. "Do you know why I'm here?" 

The despair swept back through him, and only years of acting kept it from showing. He shook his head, uncertain if he could trust his voice. 

The director stormed over, then, boiling mad because this was supposed to be a _secret_ production, and how in God's name had the man got in, anyway?! The distraction was enough for Tom to get himself back under control, shoving one shaking hand into a pocket in a way that was almost nonchalant. 

Coulson pulled out some sort of paper and handed it over, saying, "Mr Hiddleston is required off-site for a few days. It's very much an official matter, and your financial backers have agreed to his absence." 

The director turned to Tom, then, expression tight. "Tom–"

Tom quickly nodded. "I know. I'll be back as soon as I can. Promise." Because he was one of the leads, in more scenes than he wasn't, and he couldn't just up and _leave_ for days on end during filming. 

Coulson turned back to Tom. "Is there anything you'll require that cannot be replaced with relative ease?" 

Tom shook his head, resisting the urge to reach up and touch the necklace he wore everywhere, the one with the promise ring his lover had given him shortly before his disappearance hanging on it. "I'm ready." 

Coulson nodded and turned to leave. Tom fell in behind him without needing to be told. And he wasn't sure what he was feeling, whether this was hollowness or the edges of panic, because they felt so _similar_.

A nondescript black SUV awaited them, a man seated in the driver seat with a suit and almost exactly like Coulson's, only their ties slightly different. Tom was ushered into the back seat, and Coulson followed him, grabbing the tablet the driver handed back before starting them moving. "Are you familiar with the war criminal, Loki Odi–?"

"Please don't call him that," Tom requested quietly, pressing his fingers together in his lap and staring determinedly out the window at the passing scenery. Loki hated having a tie to either of his fathers, would much rather someone call him Liesmith or Silvertongue, no matter how hatefully those names were usually meant. 

Coulson was silent for a moment, as though waiting for Tom to continue, but the actor had nothing more to say. Coulson let out a near-silent breath, then said, "When was the last time you saw him, Mr Hiddleston?" 

Tom's fingers spasmed against each other, and he very carefully entwined them, trying to keep his tells as few as possible. "Not quite a month ago," he replied, putting an edge of uncaring to his voice, trying to play down their relationship; he would _not_ serve as Loki's Achilles' Heel! 

"Two weeks ago, he was found, unconscious, outside your apartment," Coulson stated, tone bland, no suggestion that he'd noticed Tom's distress. "He has yet to awaken, and his brother has put forth some concern for his well-being should this state continue past two months." 

Tom swallowed against fear. "What does this have to do with me?" he requested. 

"The Asgardian healers who worked with him suggested he was looking for a mortal. Given where he was when he was discovered, SHIELD believes that mortal to be you." 

Tom stared, unseeing, outside his window, as the panic – it was definitely panic – rolled in his stomach. "What will you do with him when he awakens?" 

"It is uncertain, at this time," Coulson allowed. "We're unwilling to make a decision either way without all the facts." 

Tom held his silence, then, continuing to stare blankly out the window of first the car, then the helicopter. 

SHIELD's main base was a stumpy building just outside New York City proper. The only distinguishing feature was the helicopter pad on the roof, but with a hospital right across the street, Tom doubted anyone really wondered about it. More likely, they believed the two buildings were connected. 

He was led down, into the depths of the building, to a stark white series of hallways. The room Loki was in was on a hallway that was out of the way and empty, save for the two guards with guns drawn standing on either side of a steel door. They stared at Tom with blank eyes as Coulson motioned him into the room, and Tom resisted the urge to shudder. 

Inside the room, Tom found himself faced with a man who looked very much like his best friend, Chris Hemsworth, and he swallowed the sudden surge of homesickness. 

"It is truth," Thor said, looking over Tom like he was some sort of miracle. "You do bear a striking resemblance to my brother." 

Tom nodded, then requested, "Where is he?" 

Thor moved stepped to one side and motioned Tom past the huddle of three Asgardians – by their garb – and a woman that so resembled Rene, that Tom knew she must be Frigga. 

And, there, lying on a bed, skin as painfully white as the sheets, was Loki. As Tom stopped next to the god, he realised Loki's chest wasn't moving with breath, though the slow, but steady, rhythm of the heart monitor suggested he was still alive. Panic was a living beast in his chest, and Tom carefully reached down and took Loki's hand in his. "Loki?" he whispered, hoping that maybe... 

There was no change, no sign that Loki was even aware of him, and Tom closed his eyes, against the urge to cry. Somehow, he always felt a little useless next to Loki. The god could – and would – do anything he wanted, unbothered by the laws of science – or morals – that Tom was restricted by. The god could bring a mortal that knew him and cared for him in spite of _everything_ from between dimensions, and talk that mortal into giving up his entire _life_ to keep Loki company, to give him something to come home to. 

Someone cleared their throat behind him, then a few feet shuffled. The quiet whisper of fabric was the only warning Tom got before a gentle hand settled on his shoulder. He looked over to find Frigga watching him with a sad smile. Behind her, the Asgardian group were being directed out under Thor's hard stare, Coulson leading the way. Thor followed after them once the last had passed through the door, casting one last helpless look towards the bed's occupant before pulling the door shut behind him. 

"Tell me of yourself," Frigga said, motioning for him to sit in the chair Tom hadn't noticed before. It was in easy reach of the hand he still held, thumb unconsciously rubbing over the finger Loki should have been wearing a matching promise ring on, had Tom been given the chance to give one to him. 

Tom watched the queen for a long moment, trying to find words among his scattered thoughts. When his free hand reached up and touched the outline of his ring under his shirt, things settled and he was finally able to, quietly, say, "I'm an actor. I don't– I'm still not clear how Loki found me, or why he was so determined I stay once he did, but I know there was magic involved that exhausted him." He glanced towards the still, pale face and tightened his hand around Loki's. "He knew I'd stay, though." 

"Where is home?" Frigga asked. 

Tom thought of his dimension, of his friends and co-workers who so resembled heroes and spies and villains in this world; of his parents and sisters and cousins, the family he hadn't seen in over a year; of his agent and publicist and all his fans; of his little flat that was just the right size for one person who was always on the move, awards he wasn't always certain he deserved, put on display only because Emma would always pull them out of any holes he tried hiding them in. 

Then he looked down at the hand in his, pale and always so cold. At Loki, who had needed him so much, he'd created a spell to pull him across dimensions, then demanded Tom stay with the most broken light in his dull green eyes. Loki had looked so terrible, then, like he'd just escaped from prison and tortures beyond Tom's understanding, like he'd lost so much of himself, he wasn't even sure who or what he was any more. "Here," he said. "My home is right here." 

Frigga smiled at him, beautiful and sad, and she nodded. "The spell that holds my son is not unlike one from your Midgardian tales; it requires the touch of one the victim loves, and who loves the victim in return." 

Tom opened his mouth to point out that he was _already_ touching Loki, but then the rest of her words registered. Midgardian tales. Fairy tales. 

Tom pushed out of his chair enough to lean over to god and press their lips together, gentle and familiar. 

Breath fanned out against Tom's lips, and Loki gave a shudder as the human pulled back. Green eyes blinked open, something like uncertainty in them. 

"Good morning, Princess," Tom whispered, feeling giddy. 

Those green eyes settled on him and they slowly blinked. Understanding returned, and the hand in Tom's spasmed for a moment before the other hand settled in Tom's curls. "Thomas?" Loki croaked, voice rough from disuse. 

Tom used his free hand to cup Loki's cheek, leaning down to rest their foreheads together, noses lining up in a familiar motion. "Hey there, pudding. I've missed you." 

Loki angled his head and pressed his lips against Tom's so very briefly before pulling back just enough to whisper, "I didn't think...I'd see you again..." 

Tom sighed and nudged their noses together. "I love you, you idiot of a god." 

Loki's lips curled and his eyes lit up, so bright a green, it was like stepping into a storybook image of spring. "I know," he said, then leaned up to kiss Tom again. 

Tom kissed him back, gave them both this moment of peace, of wonderful reunion. Reunions with Thor and Frigga would follow – certain to be unpleasant for all of them, knowing Loki – and then they'd have a fight on their hands to keep Loki out of a SHIELD holding cell, or from being sent back to Asgard in chains. But Tom would fight for him, would fight for them both, because everyone had a right to live with the one they loved. Right? 

Right.

..


End file.
